IceCream and Letters: A Cruel Game
by megzlilpegs
Summary: Nellie Lovett is not as sane as she'd hoped, but neither is she entirly alone in the world.


**Ice-Cream and Letters; A Cruel Game**

_Oh my dear how much fun we had! Can you believe how we tied ourselves together with seaweed? Oh we were so innocent back then! Remember the time I lost my ribbon love? The red, satin one? And we found it the next day, in a seagulls nest! I still have the ribbon you know, I will never forget that adventure! I think I cried for two hours straight, over a ribbon for heavens sakes! Do you recall when Joshua fell from the pier? He deserved it all right. Oh, remember how much he cried? What a sight that was, him blubbering and wailing about like a baby. And remember how quiet he was after we rescued him together? He never did tease us after that..filthy boy must have learnt his lesson. Who would've thought the town bully couldn't swim? I remember he gave us his candy once, I always thought he had a fancy for you, you know..well now, who did he end up with? Oh it was that dreadful Stacey wasn't it? Ha! She deserved him almost as much as he did her. Oh they will suffer! Oh well, have you found anyone yet? Any such charming man, such as..Robert? Oh do not fight my accusations, as I know you will try, you know as well as I do that he adores you! You adore him too, no? Do not deny it, do not let the chance to be loved slip by my dear. Life over here is rather sullen, though, did I tell you? I have seen Mr. Stelic here for the past two weeks. You know who he is? Daniel? Remember him love? His father owned the ice-cream parlor! Do you remember when we let a frog loose in the store? He never did allow us back in.._

"Mrs. Lovett," the deep voice boomed from the doorway, "what _are_ you doing?"

"Oh Mr. Todd!" she exclaimed, trying frantically to hide her letter, " you gave me a frigh'"

He only grunted in reply, staring intently at the woman, who had just seconds before been smiling idiotically at her pen and paper. He continued to stare at her, obviously expecting an explanation.

"I was-er, that is-," she stuttered, "I was writin' to a friend of mine," she said rather quickly.

"Mrs. Lovett," he started, almost menacingly, "you don't _have_ any friends."

"I do too!" she said, almost desperately.

"Who?"

"Well- I- um.." she trailed off, unable to think of a single person who gave a damn about her existence.

He snickered. He'd won, yet again.

"I do 'ave friends!" she said, though this time not knowing whether she was trying to prove the fact to the barber, or to herself.

"Of course you do," he said, mocking her struggle.

"Well- I- um…Toby is my friend," she said, hopefully.

"He's eleven."

"So?"

"So he doesn't count," he replied a-matter-of-factly.

"Well, then-"

"Who were you writing to Mrs. Lovett?" he interrupted, cruelly forcing her into admitting what she thought she could hide.

"No-one," she mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" he asked again, though the glint of amusement in his eyes showed he had indeed heard her.

"I said _no-one_," she replied a little louder.

The widow found a sudden fascination with the muddy floorboards, hanging her head low in shame. She was embarrassed, extremely embarrassed; who the hell wrote letters to pretend friends? God, even _she_ was beginning to believe the neighbours accusations of her decreasing sanity. Perhaps she really _was_ insane. Well, to be truthful, they weren't _entirely_ pretend. They had been her friends, way back in the days of her childhood. She'd simply failed to retain their friendship, that was all. She turned suddenly, and left the room, leaving the barber alone with his amusement at her newfound embarrassment. She turned her attention to her workbench, preparing for the evening rush.

The widow sighed, taking a much needed rest in her chair. It had been a busy night -a rarity in London's winter weather- and she was grateful that a storm had prevented the hungry customers from staying any later than eight. It was dark now, and the rain beat down on the windows, the metal door signs making the eeriest of noises as the wind thrashed at them. She stood, moving over to one of the small boxes, which lay below her bed. Taking it out, she rummaged through the contents, until she pulled out another, smaller box. Lifting the lid, she gazed upon the supply of letters she'd written to 'friends' over the years. Who was he to question her sanity, when _his_ only friends were several pieces of shining metal? She sighed pulling out a handful, setting the box aside and sitting back down on her weary bones. She reclined on the chair as she read.

_You've never met him? How odd. I suppose when you came down here..oh that's right, he was away for the week of your stay, no wonder I had you so confused! What a shame you never met him. Did I love him you ask? Oh, don't be so silly! I have never known love, nor shall I, I fear. He is a friend, a great, dear friend, but that is all. Now I do hope I have not disappointed your gossip..-_

The baker tore her eyes away from her own cursive handwriting. She couldn't read this. She couldn't believe the lies that she'd tried so hard to convince herself of. It was too hard to bear. Too hard to face the reality that in actual fact, she had loved him more than anything she could ever imagine. She still did. More than herself, more than the sea, more than love itself. And he had never noticed.

_Lillian! You must allow me to visit you, if you do not mind my company. I should like very much to stay with you. The sea-side cottage sounds lovely dear._

She glared angrily at the paper. It should have been _her_ seaside cottage. The foundings for this letter had been sound, she had heard of Lillian Rosebay moving to a seaside cottage, with her husband. And she was three months pregnant. Everything the baker wanted flashed before her eyes. She put the letters back in the small box, closed her eyes and reminicsed.

She could see the beautiful blue water. She could smell the fresh, salty ocean water of her childhood. She could feel the warm sand beneath her feet as she ran blindly against the wind, squealing in delight as she reached the pier before her eleven-year-old opponent did.

"Jesus Nellie! Where'd ya learn to run like _that_?" the boy asked her, as soon as he had reached the finish line.

"I dunno," she smiled happily, flopping down onto the cool sand, "I just run fast."

"Well it's not fair. Boys are s'posed to be faster."

"Well they're not," she said plainly, as if she'd abided by the rule her whole life.

He rolled his eyes.

"Betcha I could climb up there faster than you," he said, pointing to a support plank on the underside of the pier.

"No way," she said jumping to her feet, Nellie was _not_ one to be beaten.

"Ready, set" he said, "go!"

The two quicklyset to work maneuvering around the various herds of sea life that clung to the old wooden posts as they battled to be the first to the top.

He reached the top before she did, watching proudly as his friend climbed up the post. None of the other girls would even _try_ to climb the filthy post. Then again, Nellie wasn't like other girls. She was special. He smiled warmly, drawn from his thoughts as he heard a sharp cry.

"Ben!" she cried out, her eyes suddenly wide in fear.

He reached her just in time, taking a strong hold on her small arm.

"I slipped," she whimpered, clinging desperately to the pole.

"Can you climb up? Or down?" he asked, not quite sure of what to do.

She gave him an unsure look, and tried to pull herself up, letting out a squeal as a sharp pain shot through her leg.

"Nellie?" he question, alarmed at her outburst.

"I can't," she said, her voice testy, but not shaken "I have to get down."

He cast a quick look down at the ground, they were a long way up, and she couldn't climb. Without thinking, he jumped to the ground, landing in the sand with a thud.

"Ben?" she called out, "Ben, don't leave!"

She sighed in relief, as she heard him rise from the sand.

"Im here Nellie, here, I'll catch you."

She looked down at him warily, there was no way he could catch her. She gazed down at the ground. She was up so high! She closed her eyes and told herself to be brave. She scowled at herself: Nellie Lovett wasn't afraid of anything.

"Okay."

"One, Two, Three, Jump!"

She clung to the pole tightly. She couldn't do it.

"C'mon Nellie, don't be scared. I'll catch you."

She sniffed a little.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay."

"One, Two, Three, Jump!"

She let go of the pole, springing from it lightly and fell quickly towards the ground. She panicked. He wasn't going to catch her! But true to his word, the boy caught her, falling to the ground as she landed in his arms.

They crawled back to the wall, and leant against it. She stared ahead into the sea. He reached across, giving her small hand a squeeze. She smiled.

"Thanks."

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, my foot hurts though."

"Oh. You were _so_ scared," he said, teasing.

"No I wasn't!"

"You were! Or else you would have jumped like me!"

"Were you scared to jump?"

"Yes."

"Then why'd you do it?"

"To catch you," he said plainly.

"Oh," she said smiling, "then I maybe I was a _little_ scared."

"Wanna get some ice-cream?"

She didn't even have to answer, the two of them were off and racing towards the ice-cream parlour before she could even decide what flavour she'd like, the apparent pain in her foot disappearing the minute the sweet was offered.

They'd spent that evening at the pier, eating their ice-cream as they watched the sunset.

"Benny?" she said suddenly turning to face him, her auburn curls flailing wildly though the air.

"Yeah?"

"Do you believe in true love?"

"Isn't that a girl thing?" he asked, dodging the question.

"Do you?" she insisted.

"Yes, do you?"

"Of course," she said plainly, turning her attention back to her ice-cream.

"Do you think you'll ever be married?" he asked her, curious.

"I hope so. One day."

"Me too" he said quietly, reaching for her hand.

She smiled warmly at him before looking out into the horizon once again…

"Mrs. Lovett," a deep voice sounded from the now closed bedroom door.

"Oh!" she cried out, sitting herself up, suddenly realizing where she was.

"What are these?" he said, pulling a few letters from the small box.

"No, you can't – those are- don't take- they're mine!" she finally managed, panicked.

She made a pointless attempt to retrieve the letters, but he was much too strong, pushing her away easily. She squealed something about privacy as he took one to his eyes. He froze suddenly as he began to read.

_Dear Miss,_

_I write to you from a place far away from my home. Please, do not attempt to find me. You have betrayed me and broken my heart in ways I cannot begin to describe. I brought you here, to my home, to my house, and to my life, with no other object in mind other than your enjoyment. But seemingly, in creating your happiness, I have lost my own. Lucy, I will not pretend I am not to blame, for it is through my own fault that you met your now fiancé. But it is you and only you who can be blamed for my pain. You knew my sentiments, and you ignored them. You never once took my words to heart, regarding them as foolish. You ignored my every wish and desires, replacing them selfishly with your own. I told you how I felt, long before any of these dramas began to occur, yet a soon as your future was secure, you waved my wishes off as childish fantasies. In short, I love Benjamin Barker, and you have known all along. I now leave you and you fiancé to be happy together. I wish you well, but I shall not be returning to see you for I am sure my heart would break further to see my Ben happy with you. If for some reason he wishes to contact me, he will find me where I first decided that I truly I loved him. If he cannot recall where this is, then he should not come. My best wishes and luck for your married life._

_Nellie Lovett_

She stared at him, waiting for his reaction. She'd recognized the particular letter, for being one of the first she'd written, she had dated the back. She'd found relief in this letter, imagining what could have happened if she had found the courage to leave as she'd wished. Instead, she became a witness to her own breaking heart. Now however, the letter brought her anything but comfort. She stood nearly trembling with nerves as she waited for him to finish reading. Her heart froze as he lifted his eyes to her.

"Why didn't you leave?" he asked, shaken.

"I couldn't."

"Why?" he asked, suddenly overcome with an urge to know everything, _anything_ about her.

"Because you were there," she said meekly, avoiding eye contact with the barber.

"You would have gone to the pier," he paused, placing the letter on the nearby table. He tried to find some conformation in his landlady's face. She gave a quick, sharp nod before turning her eyes away from him again.

"By the sea," he said slowly, suddenly understanding.

She nodded gently.

He stepped in towards her.

"How long?"

She looked up at him questioningly.

"How long have you loved me?"

She made eye contact, her eyes brimming with passion and pain, giving depth to her evident torment.

"Always."

He leaned into her, suddenly capturing her mouth in his. She kissed back, passion flowing through her as he pulled her into him. He pulled away from her face and held her to his chest tightly. She couldn't help the few silent tears from escaping her eyes as he held her. For the brief seconds he'd kissed her, she'd almost believed it. _Almost_ believed that he loved her. But now, as he held her, she _knew_. He'd kissed her not as a lover, but to reassure her. To let her know she wasn't alone in her suffering. That she wasn't the only one who cried themselves to sleep at night. He let her know that they were _both_ victims in the cruel, twisted game of nature known as love. Each doomed to come out scathed at the end. She sighed as she pulled away from him, catching his eye as he turned towards the door. With one glance at him, she knew what he meant. They'd be battered and broken before they'd escape this cruel trap, and by then, it would be far too late for sunsets on the pier.


End file.
